The One With the Cutest Baby Ever
by greenish orange
Summary: [Complete] The girls discuss Chandler’s proposition. CM.


**A/N: **This is my interpretation of the adorable pre-Mondler scene during TOW the Birth. I couldn't resist the temptation. Implies C/M.

-

"You know what's funny?" Rachel said, wiggling her toes and looking at Phoebe idly. "I went shopping, I looked through all of Monica's magazines, and here I am, painting my toenails, and I'm still bored."

"Hmmm, yeah," Phoebe said, twirling her spoon around in her iced tea.

"What we need is some good gossip," Rachel said, leaning forward on her elbows excitedly. "Care to share anything, Phoebs? Anything at all? _Anything_?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay, Rach," Phoebe said. "Don't push me or I might spill _your _secrets."

Rachel frowned. "I don't have any secrets."

Phoebe added a spoonful of sugar to her tea. "That's all you know, Rachel Karen Greene."

Monica dashed through the bathroom door, holding a mop and looking frazzled. "You're right! Something's wrong! I cleaned the bathroom three times and I'm still bored! Why am I bored? My God – I'm boring! I'm a boring person, aren't I? I'm going to die an old maid! Oh my God – I'm going to die!"

Rachel stood up and quickly made her way over to Monica, who looked as though she was suffering from an aneurism. "Shhh, honey, calm down, okay? You're not going to _die. _We're just having a lazy day. That's all."

Monica began to pace. "Are you sure you guys don't need anything? Cookies? Champagne? Handmade coasters for Phoebe's iced tea?"

"Well, you _could _extricate that bulging vein in your forehead," said Phoebe, placing her glass of iced tea on the coaster Monica pushed towards her pointedly.

"Wha – I do not have a bulging vein!" Monica protested.

"Mon, I can't even _look _at anything else."

Monica scowled; Rachel rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "It's not just us, Mon – I'm sure the boys are lying in their beds _crying_ because they aren't here with you enjoying the . . . _festivities_."

"Really?" asked Monica hopefully.

"Yes, really."

Monica beamed and set the mop carefully against the refrigerator. "That may be the happiest thought I've had all day. Thanks, Rach."

Rachel gave Monica a half smile and handed her a paper towel soaked in rubbing alcohol. "Hey, you know what you _could _do, Mon?" Rachel said innocently. "You could repaint my toenails."

"What's wrong with how they are?" asked Phoebe skeptically. Rachel shrugged.

"The color?"

Monica was already taking off the polish, looking appeased. Phoebe watched her for a moment, then handed her the bottle of red polish. "Oh, why bother?"

Rachel gave her a look that said quite plainly, 'she's-quiet-so-just-leave-her-alone'.

After a quarter hour of finger and toenail painting, the girls were restless.

"You know what sounds semi-interesting?" Phoebe said. "Talking about how bored we are. You go first, Rach."

"Um, okay . . ." She considered for a moment. "Well, hmmm, truthfully, I'm so bored that, if Chandler asked me, I'd make out with him right here, right now."

Monica laughed and Phoebe said casually, "I wouldn't need to be bored to do _that._"

"Whoa–what?" Rachel cried, bewildered.

"If I didn't know him, he didn't have a personality, and he came up and asked me to make out with him, because, you know, who wouldn't want to – I'd totally do it. He's a tasty little dish."

"Phoebe!"

Rachel grinned. "Ooh, scandalous."

Monica laughed harder. "You guys are sick, sick, horny girls."

Phoebe grinned at Monica. "Oh, c'mon, like you've _never_ thought of him like that."

Monica stopped laughing. "Me? No! I mean, I agree, he's very cute, and he can be surprisingly sweet, but other than that – he's _Chandler._ It's too weird."

Phoebe raised her eyebrows. "I would think you, of all people, would see that he's pretty decent boyfriend material."

Rachel looked at Monica, her interest piqued, just as Monica asked, "Why?"

"That thing he said. At the hospital, when you were all depressed about being a failure –" Monica frowned at her.

"Thanks, Phoebs. My self-esteem has just skyrocketed."

"Big picture, _please_! Remember, he said if you two were forty and unmarried he would _lend you his sperm,_ per se – get you knocked up so you could have that baby and so forth."

Rachel visibly melted. "Oh my God, that's adorable. He actually said that?"

Monica looked taken aback. "Well, yeah, but he was just joking around! He would never actually _do _anything like that!"

"Would he?" Phoebe asked mysteriously.

"No . . . no!"

"Are you actually telling me you can't see how sweet he was being?" Rachel asked, flabbergasted. "What did you say to him?"

"Well, I asked him why I wouldn't be married when I was forty –"

"_Monica!_" Rachel cried exasperatedly.

"_What?_" Monica asked in frustration.

Rachel looked at her in sheer bemusement. "Okay, Mon, either you have really, really good self-control or you are stupider than a snail . . . or Joey. Or their combined offspring." Phoebe nodded in agreement.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"My God, Mon, if a guy said that to me I'd be all _over him_! I mean, that is so damn sweet I just want to go across the hall and kiss him all over – and he didn't even say it to _me_! And I'm not even attracted to him! _And_ he annoys the hell out of me more than any living, breathing person I know!"

"So you know dead people too?" Phoebe asked Rachel elatedly.

"Listen," said Rachel, glancing at Phoebe worriedly, "you must have felt at least a bit appreciative, or _something_!"

"Well, yeah, of course I appreciated it, but I just assumed it was a joke!" Monica said, suddenly feeling ashamed. She added, slightly irritated, "And it probably _was_ a joke! You guys _know_ the biggest thing Chandler fears is commitment! He can't even commit to a–a gym or a drycleaners! What makes you think he would change all of his ways just to give me a baby?"

"I don't know, Mon, why _does_ any man sacrifice his _lone wolf _slash _bachelor_ title?" said Rachel sarcastically. "Maybe to _make you happy_?"

Monica dropped onto the couch and stared at the cushions. She suddenly felt tears well up; she quickly wiped at her eyes. "Oh my God. He'd do that for me? He'd do that for _me_?"

Rachel slid next to her and absently played with her hair. "Of _course_ he would. He loves you so much, Mon, we all see it. He has this humungous soft spot for you."

All three girls sat in silence for a moment. Suddenly, Phoebe commented, "If it's any inspiration whatsoever, you two would have the cutest baby _ever_."

"Ooh, you totally would!" Rachel said excitedly. "And I'd be an aunt!"

"And _I'd_ be an aunt!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"And _I'd_ be a mom!" cried Monica happily.

"And Ross would be an uncle!" said Rachel. "And Joey would be an uncle! And –"

"Okay, we're done with that game," said Phoebe. "What would you name her?"

"Her?"

"Well, we can't have a boy baby, they're not as pretty!"

"Good point," said Rachel. "So, what would you name her?"

Monica smiled. "Emma."

"Emma," Rachel repeated nostalgically.

"You know you can't steal my baby's name, right?" Monica warned threateningly.

"Oh . . . yeah, of course not," Rachel said, looking thwarted.

"Emma," said Monica contentedly. "She _would_ be the cutest baby ever, wouldn't she?"

"Emma who?" a voice asked from behind them.

Monica, Rachel, and Phoebe turned around, jerked from their fantasy. Chandler had been digging through the refrigerator and held two cold beers in his hand, dressed in boxers and a long t-shirt. Rachel and Phoebe looked at him adoringly; Monica smiled at him. He gave Rachel and Phoebe weird looks, but returned Monica's small smile as he opened the freezer door.

"So who's Emma?" he asked again.

"The cutest baby in the world," said Rachel, just as Monica said, "No one."

"Oh, okay." He paused. "Hey, do you guys have popsicles or anything? Joey bit his lip."

Monica stood up and made her way into the kitchen. "I think so – but why can't you just use ice? We have plenty of that."

Chandler rolled his eyes. "Apparently it's against Joey's ingenuousness to put anything in his mouth without flavor."

Monica laughed. She fished through the freezer and found a box of fudge bars. "Will this do?"

"Perfect, thanks. Oh, and if you don't get them back, I wasn't responsible."

They moved to the door. Monica held it open for him; he chanced another glance at Phoebe and Rachel, and muttered under his breath, "You should seriously consider keeping the pot _away_ from them next time, Mon."

She rolled her eyes and pushed him out the door. "Get out of here, you moocher."

He grinned, but as soon as he was out of view of Phoebe and Rachel, his expression changed to a more serious one. He moved closer and asked quietly, "Hey, are you okay? After yesterday –"

"Great," she replied honestly. "I'm an auntie. It can't get much better than this."

"Maybe," he said, smiling. "Hang in there, Mon. I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too."

As soon as she closed the door, Rachel erupted into a chorus of 'awwws' and Phoebe said, "If you don't call dibs on that man, then _I_ will."

Monica just smiled.


End file.
